


Time Is All We Have

by evelynegrey, fortunefavorsthebrave



Series: Walking Dead Fusion [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - The Walking Dead Fusion, Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-05
Updated: 2015-02-05
Packaged: 2018-03-10 15:50:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 20,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3296024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evelynegrey/pseuds/evelynegrey, https://archiveofourown.org/users/fortunefavorsthebrave/pseuds/fortunefavorsthebrave
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Okay, here's the deal," the man who'd met him outside started, "if you fuck up, or try to sell us out, or use us as bait, you're out. Okay?"<br/>Harry nodded quickly.<br/>"And we will outsmart you," he continued. "We will outrun you, so don't even think about trying."<br/>"I don't want any trouble," Harry told him, cowering slightly.<br/>"Good." He tossed him his gun and Harry caught it clumsily. "We're gonna have to teach him to shoot."</p><p>AU where the world has gone to shit, Harry has accidentally survived, Niall likes root vegetables and no one knows anything about Louis except that they would follow him to the end of the world and back. Zayn and Liam are also there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for season 4 of The Walking Dead as the plot is based on the finale.

It had been a long time since he'd heard other people around that weren't walkers.

At first, he'd remained quietly hopeful that when he heard movement, it might just be more survivors like himself, but it was always a creature trying to get to his flesh. After a while, Harry stopped hoping, and settled for the fact that maybe most of the country was died out, at least where he was travelling.

But then he heard talking, actual words that had to be from people who were alive. But groups were just as dangerous as walkers, so he hung back to observe.

Hiding behind a couple of thick bushes, he could see movement, and then an actual human face, alive and breathing, followed by three more, talking quietly amongst themselves.

"We should stop for the night, boys," one of them said, words layered by a characteristic Birmingham accent.

"Not until we find a house," the one at the front of the line decided, his voice raspy and hoarse but so pleasant to Harry's sore ears.

"But we're in the middle of the countryside," the blond one complained, a little out of place with his light hair, Irish accent and American flag shirt. "Could be hours."

"Then it'll be hours. You know it's safer," the Birmingham one said, sounding a little strained.

They didn't seem particularly dangerous, but it was never easy to tell any more.

Harry followed them at a distance, walking as quietly as he could and tracking their footsteps even if he wasn't particularly good at it. He wasn't going anywhere, and he'd been so desperate for human company that he would have followed anyone, just to know he wasn't alone in the world.

Come nightfall, they finally found a lonely house in the middle of a clearing. Harry fell back again and watched the other boys search the grounds quickly and efficiently, communicating with hand signals as they approached the house and broke inside. He could hear the sound of a few walkers after that, and of them being quieted abruptly, and when a light was finally turned on in one of the windows, he slowly crept out of his hiding place like a moth, craving the warmth.

He couldn't hear anything, but he understood that they were discussing one of them going out. In the end, the long haired one with the rough voice grabbed his jacket and left the others in the living room. Harry stared a while longer, soothed by how much they seemed to smile, and didn't hear the quiet footfalls behind him.

"Drop your weapons," a voice came from behind him. Harry stood perfectly still as he picked his gun out of his jeans pocket, dropping it onto the grass and slowly lifting his hands. He wasn't particularly scared, one learnt not to be in the presence of the living. "Now turn around." Harry did as he was told, until he stood face to face with the shortest of the group, crossbow raised in front of him as he eyed Harry stonily.

He didn't know if it was because he hadn't seen people for so long, but the man had the face of an angel, despite the dirt and the dangerous glint in his eye. His hair was a matted dark brown, falling into his face carelessly, cheekbones sharp and milky, his eyes a piercing blue.

"Why are you following us? Gonna raid us while we sleep?"

Harry frowned and shook his head, and remembered that he was probably supposed to answer. "No, I was just curious." His own voice surprised him, reminding him how long it had been since anyone was there to talk to.

"Just curious? If you wanted company, why didn't you come over in the first place?"

"You might be dangerous."

"So might you. Are you?"

Harry shook his head again. "I can barely use my gun, to be honest," he said.

There was a sharp noise behind him, of twigs breaking, and then the unmistakable sound of walkers, far too close for comfort.

"Get down!" the man growled and harry dropped like a stone, watching the arrows fly over his head and hit the walkers in quick succession, faster than Harry could even register. "Get inside! Now!"

Harry ran, crashing through into the living room, forgetting his gun outside. The Birmingham kid immediately raised his weapon until he heard the walkers outside.

"Zayn, keep an eye on this one," he told the quiet boy left over, and ran outside.

"....Hey." Harry breathed, waving a little awkwardly.

"Hi."

"Sit down, be quiet," the blond one told him and Harry immediately dropped so he was sat next to Zayn, who kept looking at him in the light from the small lantern in the middle of the room.

A few minute later, the two others came back, barricading the door.

"Is it safe?"

"For the time being. Did you find something to eat?"

"A few cans of beans."

"Who's this?"

Harry looked up, eyes darting between them all. The short one was still holding his crossbow. "I'm Harry," he said quietly. "And I'm alone."

"Not any more," the blond kid told him after a few seconds of complete silence. "At least until you turn out to be crazy or something."

"Niall, shut up."

"I'm just saying."

"Okay, here's the deal," the man who'd met him outside started, "if you fuck up, or try to sell us out, or use us as bait, you're out. Okay?"

Harry nodded quickly.

"And we _will_ outsmart you," he continued. "We _will_ outrun you, so don't even think about trying."

"I don't want any trouble," Harry told him, cowering slightly.

"Good." He tossed him his gun and Harry caught it clumsily. "We're gonna have to teach him to shoot."

"Well, he's survived this far."

"God knows how. He can't even track us quietly."

Harry ducked his head, a little embarrassed at his own lack of achievement.

"Don't be so hard on him," Zayn muttered, patting Harry's shoulder. "I'm Zayn, obviously. That's Niall, that's Liam, and the scary one is Louis. He's not that scary deep down."

Louis threw him a filthy glare but didn't say anything. Harry watched him walk across the room, inclining his head towards Liam who then followed him through a door, presumably into the living room.

"Well, we'd better get dinner ready then," Niall said, clapping his hands together and getting to his feet. "They'll be making a fire so let's get these suckers open, shall we?"

They had their dinner in front of the open fire, Harry sitting close to the flames despite the July heat and listening to the others' mumbled voices. He wasn't so bothered about what they were discussing, so long as he could hear them and know he wasn't as alone as he thought he was.

"Hey, you alright?" Niall asked quietly, coming to sit next to him. "Maybe you shouldn't sit so close, you're going to burn your jacket off."

Harry looked at him, a little confused before he nodded, shifting back a few inches.

"I wasn't any good at this either, you know," Niall told him, "before I met the others. Louis taught me. He taught all of us, really."

"And how did he learn?" Harry asked, glancing over to where Louis was bent over one of his arrows, sharpening it with a knife.

"I have no idea," Niall replied. "I don't know what his life was before this, but he's a survivor. We're lucky to have him."

"I'm sorry if I attracted the attention of the walkers," Harry confessed, picking at a thread in his sleeve absently. "I was probably too loud or something."

"Not necessarily. I didn't notice you were following us."

Harry nodded, giving in and running a hand through his hair. He needed to wash it, really. And running his dirtied hands through it wasn't helping.

"So what were you doing, before all this?" Niall asked quietly.

Harry sighed. He barely remembered his life before the outbreak. "Nothing much," he replied. "Worked in a bakery. Lived with my... In Holmes Chapel."

"I wasn't home when it happened," Niall told him. "Visiting friends here in England. I have no idea if my family is alive back in Ireland."

Harry nodded, unwilling to think about his own family. He hadn't seen his mum or his sister in years now.

"I think I'd rather not know. At least that way I can tell myself they're fine, you know?" Niall stared into the fire, and gave up the subject. "Have you been on your own the whole time?"

"No I was with... Some others. But they turned out to be not who I thought, so I left, middle of my watch." He felt a little bad about it, because what if they got in trouble because he ran off?

"Probably the right thing to do, mate," Niall nodded. "I was in a similar situation myself, until I found the others. They kinda saved me. From the walkers."

"Are you going anywhere?" Harry asked. "Anywhere specific?"

"Terminus," Louis spoke up behind them, and Harry turned to look at him. The light of the fire was reflected in his eyes as he met Harry's.

"Terminus? What's that?"

"Sanctuary for all, community for all," Louis started.

"Those who arrive, survive," the others chimed in.

"We all know it because we've been following the directions for weeks," Niall explained. "On train tracks, but we get off them at night."

"Are you sure it's safe?" Harry asked, directing the question at Louis.

"Nope," he answered. "But it's something, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Harry agreed. Just the thought of having somewhere to go, some sort of purpose, even if it was in vain, felt like a blessing. "Is it far?"

"Quite," Louis told him. "But we have time." He gave a mirthless laugh, and Harry couldn't help but smile a little. Time was all they had these days.

"Might as well see what's going on before we give up on it, right?" Liam added. "If it's no good, we just turn back and don't go in."

"We're not going in without scoping it out first, seeing what happens when someone else finds it," Louis told him. "If you don't want to go, you can hang back and we might come back here."

It didn't sound very sure, and Harry didn't want to be left behind. "I'll come with you."

"Not before you learn how to fight," Louis said, eyes back on his arrow. "You're gonna have to be part of the team. That's how we survive."

Harry nodded, looking around at the others. No one said anything.

"We can stay here for a while," Louis continued. "Until you're ready."

He got to his feet then, placing the arrow back on his crossbow and walking off. Harry felt strangely unsettled.

"He's a bit intense sometimes," Zayn commented, "but he's alright really. Just looking out for us."

"I don't think he likes me very much," Harry muttered, ducking his head again and wishing he'd found a better way to introduce himself.

"He let you in without throwing you to the walkers. It's a good start, mate," Niall assured him.

"Not everyone's been that lucky?"

"No, not everyone."

Harry slept in front of the fire that night, curled up on a few blankets he'd found. The house was quiet, the others having found their own beds in various places and the walkers seemingly keeping their distance. He kept waking up, worried that Louis would be right there, watching in case he did something wrong. It felt like he was just looking for a reason to tell him off.

By dawn, everyone was ready to go again, after Niall had made just enough noise in the doorway for Harry to wake up slowly rather than in shock, as he did most days.

"Harry," Louis said, stepping out from behind Niall. His hair was dishevelled and he'd taken his denim jacket off to reveal an off white, loose fitting tank top. "I'm teaching you to track. We need breakfast."

Harry got to his feet clumsily, tying a scarf around his head quickly to keep his hair out of the way.

"You need any help?" Niall asked Louis quietly.

"Nah, we're good," Louis replied, leading the way out of the cottage.

It was a little unnerving to be alone with Louis, knowing how easily he could take Harry out and nobody would have to know anything. But despite everything, Louis seemed more calm. Maybe now that he spent the night in the same house and Harry didn't steal or do anything wrong, he was in the clear.

"You've still got a lot to learn, you know, I'm not going to relax and trust you until you can actually shoot and protect yourself."

"Just because I can't shoot doesn't mean you can't trust me," Harry said, pushing a few branches out of the way as he tried to keep up with Louis.

"We'll see about that," Louis answered him, suddenly stopping and standing very still. "Seems like we'll have rabbit for breakfast."

"Where?" Harry asked.

"It's all written right in front of you," Louis said quietly, glancing over his shoulder at Harry. "You've just got to read the signs."

It took them an hour to track down the rabbit, Louis showing Harry what to look for, how to move, and finally how to nail it to the ground with his crossbow.

The rabbit made a high sound just as it died, and Harry had to struggle to keep himself from not looking upset. They needed to eat, but he never got used to actually killing something like that.

"You know how to skin one of these, right?" Louis asked, holding the rabbit by the back legs.

"Um... no," he admitted. Louis gave him an impatient look.

"How the hell have you survived?"

"Raiding empty houses," Harry replied, ashamed by his inexperience and uselessness.

"Let's get back to the house," Louis said after a moment's pause. "I'll show you how it's done.”

All in all, it was a very productive morning, and once they'd finally cooked the rabbit, Harry felt like he'd learnt more in one day than he had in his entire lifetime. He wished he could take a shower, the morning cold having turned into midday scorching heat, and his shirt was sticking to his back, his curls falling damp into his face as he munched slowly on his rabbit leg.

He was proud of himself for not throwing up, but seeing Louis skilfully take the non edible parts of the rabbit out was nothing compared to the other things he's seen in the past. Louis kept the innards of the rabbit, telling him it'd be a good distraction if they need to send some walkers in another direction.

"How was hunting?" Zayn asked, dipping his meat in some gravy they'd found in a cupboard.

"Difficult. But I think I'm getting there," Harry smiled.

Louis didn't say anything and it made Harry's smile fade a little. He had no idea what he was thinking.

"Can you handle that gun of yours at all?" he asked after a few minutes of silence, when Harry had almost finished picking off the small bits of meat from his bone.

"I can load it," Harry offered. "I'm just not very good at aiming and stuff."

"Have you used it?"

"Once or twice. Hit a walker, a few times." He was proud of those times, even if it usually took his knife to the things' head to actually stop it. "I mostly try not to because I know bullets are rare to come by."

"Doing something right, then."

Louis' comments hurt, but Harry felt like he deserved them for not knowing how to survive when the world ended such a long time ago.

"How many walkers have you killed?" Louis asked him, tossing his bone aside.

"I don't know," Harry admitted.

"How many people?"

"None."

Harry had a moment of wondering how many people Louis had killed before Louis got to his feet.

"Hand me your gun," he said.

After such a question, Harry was incredibly reluctant, but he didn't want to get on to Louis' bad side, either.

Silently, he handed over the gun, flinching when Louis snatched it away and inspected it. "Come with me," he announced, sweeping from the room dramatically.

"You're popular," Niall commented, smiling a little. "Try not to hurt yourself out there."

"I'm more worried about being hurt," Harry muttered, pushing himself to stand and follow Louis.

"We'll start with immobile targets," Louis told him briskly as they got outside. "Stance, grip, aim. Let's see if you can take this bottle down."

Harry watched him place an empty bottle on a rusty old table, far too distant for Harry to even get his hopes up about hitting it. Nevertheless, he raised his gun and squinted down the barrel, trying to keep his arms straight.

"Legs further apart," Louis instructed, coming up behind him. "Come on, relax. Lower your shoulder, there."

Harry suddenly felt fingers close around his elbow, pushing it up, a palm on his hip, just where his shirt had hitched up.

He knew he was meant to relax, but he actually ended up not breathing, taken back by Louis' closeness, and how easy it seemed to be for him to just move Harry around. Granted, he was too scared to complain or put up any kind of fight.

"Like this?" He asked quietly, trying to hold the position he was instructing.

"Jesus Christ, Harry." Louis shook his head, stepping closer to straighten his back. "Don't slouch so much."

As Harry straightened, Louis' stomach and chest pressed to his back, his arm coming up to help Harry's awful aim, fingers closing around his on the gun. He was so close Harry could feel his breath on his face. "See?" he whispered, but Harry only felt the familiar stirring deep in his gut and had to close his eyes for a moment, swallowing down the excessive amount of saliva in his mouth.

"Y-Yeah," harry breathed, trying to pay attention to what he was supposed to be doing. "Not sure I should waste a bullet though."

"You need to learn how to shoot while it doesn't matter so much."

Nodding, Harry hoped to god that he wasn't being too obvious about his unfortunate reaction, but he was fairly sure it was in his voice. It had been so long since he was near somebody else.

He squeezed the trigger, and the bullet hit one of the table legs, causing the whole thing to crash, including the bottle.

"Not bad," Louis commented, "but try hitting the head next time."

Harry swiped his sweaty fringe out of his eyes and caught a glimpse of the first smile he'd ever seen on Louis. It lit up his face, turning him into an innocent boy with crinkles around his eyes, a heavy burden seeming to have lifted momentarily from his small body. Harry felt breathless and completely flushed. Also painfully hard, still.

"I'll try." He was willing to do whatever he needed to to get Louis to smile like that again. It meant he wasn't hated, if Louis was being so cheerful. He was doing something right.

"We can keep practising, if you want. You need to get decent before we start out again. I can't come help you every time you need to take a shot if we're in tough circumstances."

Nodding, Harry took a slow breath and raised the gun again.

Louis instructed him to aim for one of the trees instead and stepped up close again, lining them up. "That's it, just relax," he murmured into Harry's ear. He smelled like earth and sweat, like sticky sweet skin and sun. Harry wanted to taste him.

He missed his target with several inches, and Louis made him try again and again, manhandling him confidently until Harry's aim wasn't quite so shitty and he feared he must stink of pheromones with the way Louis insisted on touching him.

"You're making good progress, better than I'd expected," Louis told him happily, patting his shoulder.

"Yeah?" Harry asked breathlessly, finally lowering the gun.

"Yeah," Louis agreed, squinting into the afternoon sun. His face was tanned, flushed red from the heat, and his hair stuck to his forehead with sweat and dirt. It was long enough to get into his eyes. "Let's see if the others have found something to eat."

It was like all they did was hunt for food and walk, but it was okay, because Harry wasn't on his own any more. He'd have taken all the tasks just to know he could come back to a group of people that, for now, seemed nice.

"He's almost able to hit the target, if he takes it slow," Louis announced proudly to Zayn when they returned. "Who knows, maybe he might pull through."

"I'm still a crap shot, too," Zayn told him when Louis went through to the kitchen. "I just try not to let Louis see."

"He's just one of those you want to impress, isn't he?" Harry said quietly and Zayn smiled.

"Don't think it's going to take much for you though, mate," he whispered.

"Why's that?"

"Because you already have."

Harry blushed, ducking his head. "No, I just didn't kill myself while holding the gun."

"Mate, he was smiling more than he has for days. You're doing a good job. Keep it up, and he might even have a good mood for a while."

Thinking about it, Harry realised he really did seem happier than he had been while he was tracking the group yesterday. "Maybe he just likes a new face around here."

"Maybe he does," Zayn agreed, still smiling, and herded Harry into the kitchen where Liam and Niall had prepared more beans and some apples from the garden. It was the best meal Harry had eaten in ages.

They kept practising for the following days. Louis took Harry out in the mornings to track down some game, and in the afternoons they would use Louis' crossbow to practice aim. But it wasn't until a week later that Harry got to use his new skills for actual survival.

Everyone had rested enough, and were settling into a more relaxed mode of defence. They didn't have anywhere to go in a hurry, and were pretty happy where they were. Eventually they might have to move, if they got rid of all edible game in the area, but things were okay for the time being.

They were tracking an animal, as usual, but Harry was taking the lead for once, to show Louis what he'd learnt. But Louis' hand reached out, grabbing his arm roughly, and a hand closed over his mouth as he tried to ask what was wrong. He could hear movement, loud and uncomfortably close.

Louis pulled him in behind a thick tree, arm snaking around his waist to keep him flush against him as the walkers passed agonizingly slowly. Harry had his back pressed to Louis' chest, feeling his fluttering heart against his ribs and his hot breath on his neck.

They stood perfectly still for several minutes, Louis' fingers digging into Harry's stomach, but the walkers wouldn't stop coming. It seemed to be a herd, just passing through, but it was only a matter of time before they'd notice them. They were going to have to fight their way back.

They seemed to be mostly okay, until one walker dropped out of the pack and bumped into the tree they were hiding behind, knocking it off course so he stared directly at them. There were a few seconds where Harry hoped they smelt too dirty to be classed as human, but it didn't work.

The creature sneered at them, and made a loud animalistic sound before reaching for Harry. Louis ran a knife through its throat before it could make contact, but it was too late to escape attention.

"Run!" Louis growled in Harry's ear and pushed him forwards so he stumbled a bit before he could find his balance.

"I can fight!" Harry called back, reaching for his gun and the knife Louis had given him for when he ran out of ammo.

"Just fucking go!" Louis cried, stabbing one walker before immediately pulling forth his crossbow and backing away from the growing herd, getting two head shots in a row before he looked over his shoulder to Harry who still wasn't running.

He couldn't leave Louis alone, he might get blocked in. Rather than run away, he ran to Louis, pressing their backs together so they could both work their way through the herd, and Harry kept both weapons out because at close range, the gun was a handy blunt force weapon.

"You idiot," Louis near shouted. "You're going to get yourself killed!" He cut off halfway through the sentence to stab an arrow into a walker before loading it onto his bow.

"At least I'll die protecting someone."

"Don't be dramatic," Louis scoffed.

"That's rich," Harry countered, ducking and kicking a walker so she fell backwards and took a few others with her.

And that was the opening they'd been looking for. Harry took Louis' hand and ran as fast as he could, not directly towards the house but around. All he could hear was the sound of their heavy breathing, the smattering of their feet and the moaning of dozens of walking dead behind them. Finally, the latter faded, and it was just the two of them, running along a small path that abruptly ended at the train tracks.

"We should get back in the trees," Louis breathed, doubled over and leaning on his knees as he caught his breath.

Harry nodded, uncomfortable with being so vulnerable to ambush. "Do you think we led them far enough away from the house?"

"Yeah, but we should move on fairly soon. Don't want them stumbling across it while we're stuck inside."

"Yeah," Harry nodded, putting his hands on his hips as he tried to get his breath back.

Louis looked up at him, silent except for their heavy breathing, and Harry felt so grateful that he was alive, so relieved that he'd stayed behind and pulled him out of there. He hadn't had a real friends since all of this began but he trusted Louis, admired him, and he realised he couldn't stand the thought of his getting hurt.

Louis stood to look around, and moved close to Harry on his way past. Harry considered his life choices, their near death experience, and took a chance, grabbing Louis' jacket and pressing their lips together clumsily. He missed, got the edge of his mouth, and tried again once Louis didn't shove him away roughly.

The kiss lasted for a few seconds, Louis standing perfectly still but not really reciprocating, and then Harry pulled back, letting go of the jacket slowly.

"What did you do that for?" Louis asked, voice oddly soft compared to how he normally spoke.

"Just..." Harry said, shrugging, placing his hands on his hips again and looking at the ground.

"No, come on, you didn't 'just'." Louis caught his eye again, frowning. "Why did you do that?"

"Because I wanted to, and you were right there," Harry mumbled, biting his lip gently. "Was it not okay?"

"I never said that," Louis reasoned, looking a little shocked at his own words. Harry was just pleased he hadn't been shot where he stood, so he took the answer as a good sign.

Louis levelled him with a calculating look. "Risky," he added.

"Everything is these days," Harry pointed out, studying Louis from under his lashes. They were silent for a few beats, still standing unusually close so that Louis had to tilt his head up a bit to meet his eyes.

"Good point," Louis allowed. Harry smiled hopefully, but didn't make a move, because this one was on Louis. He'd started it, but he didn't want to push anything unless he knew Louis was comfortable with it, with him. Not that he was even sure what he was looking for. Nobody could form a relationship when one of them could die at any given moment, like they both just nearly did.

"Was it a bad idea?"

"I don't know. You tell me."

"Then no," Harry said earnestly. "When was the last time you kissed someone?"

Louis didn't answer. He pulled Harry down by his shirt instead and kissed him proper, tongue darting out to part Harry's lips and they were all alone, lost like everyone else left alive but the world had granted them this and it was the first break either of them had managed to catch in _years_. So Harry made the most of it, breathing Louis in, blood and dirt and sweat, and felt for his pulse with his fingertips, just to remind himself that they were still alive.

He wasn't sure if he lost hours or minutes to kissing Louis, but when he became aware again, his hands were tangled in Louis' hair, and they were pressed close enough that Louis' skin was clammy against his own.

If any walkers had tried to attack them, they wouldn't have noticed. Harry stared in Louis' eyes, taken in by how beautiful he was, underneath the layers of dirt.

It was the first time Harry had seen Louis look scared.

"We'd better get back," he breathed, extracting Harry's hands from his hair so he could step back and turn around to start trudging back the same way they had come.

"Louis," Harry called after him. "You don't need to be scared of me."

"I'm not scared," Louis told him over his shoulder. Harry sighed and followed him.

Once they got back to the house, they'd both managed to calm down after the attack and everything that followed.

"We need to move on," Louis announced. "There's a herd of walkers nearby."

"How close?"

"Close enough that we had to fight our way out of them," Harry explained, while Louis started gathering their things.

"Shit," Zayn muttered, looking nervously out the window. Niall clapped him on the shoulder sympathetically and then they all helped Louis collect what they could carry, Harry keeping in the background as he didn't exactly own anything at all.

Darkness fell quickly after they'd left the safety of the house but they trudged on for some time before Louis decided it was time to stop and set up camp. Harry had walked at the back of the line, staying silent as the others talked in low voices, but now he walked up to Louis, not missing the way his stance became somewhat tense as Harry stepped close.

"How can I help?"

"You can help Niall put up the defences," Louis answered carefully, gesturing to where Niall was hooking rope at waist height around trees and threading it with objects that would rattle if jolted by something colliding with the string at any point. "It's going to get difficult on his own soon, we're losing light."

Harry watched for a moment, but all he really wanted to do was stay close to Louis. "Can't Zayn help? What're you doing?"

"Starting up a fire," Louis told him as if it were a stupid question. It probably was.

"Can you teach me?"

Louis hesitated a moment, eyes directed at the dry twigs he'd collected, but then he just shrugged and let Harry watch as he used a magnifying glass to catch the last rays of sun and get a fire going. Harry stayed silent, fascinated.

It was like some sort of art form, and the light reflected from Louis' skin beautifully. Harry wasn't sure he'd ever have the patience to sit and coax the flames into life, but it was amazing to watch.

Liam had managed to catch more food while everyone was setting up camp, so they roasted everything over the fire, constantly checked the dark surroundings as night fell.

"I'll take the first watch," Louis offered as they'd finished their dinner and Niall was yawning repeatedly.

"You don't have to do that," Zayn murmured.

"I want to," Louis said.

"I'll join you," Harry volunteered but Louis shook his head.

"Get some rest, Harold," he told him absently as he pulled his jacket tighter around himself, picking up his crossbow and walking over to the nearest tree where he sat down and stared into the darkness.

The others didn't even try to argue, and settle down around the dying fire. Harry tried to follow suit, but as he lay staring up at the stars, he couldn't find the ability to switch of and fall asleep. He was paranoid, kept thinking he could hear or see figures in the shadows, and the ghost of Louis' lips on his own was too distracting.

Eventually, once he was sure the others were asleep, Harry got up and quietly walked to sit next to Louis against the tree. He didn't say anything, because he didn't exactly need to announce himself.

They sat in silence for quite a while, and Harry kept glancing at Louis' face in the light of the glowing embers of their fire. He looked tired, worn out. Like he'd seen too much for his young age. He supposed they all had, but it was most visible in Louis.

He reached out and stroked his cheek with the back of his fingers. Louis's eyelids fluttered a little.

It was a good start that he wasn't brushed away immediately, so Harry kept trying, running his hand through Louis' fringe, sorting it out a little. "Why don't you sleep?" He asked quietly.

"Don't like sleeping," Louis answered, like it was a secret that nobody was allowed to overhear. "I'd rather keep watch."

"Do you have nightmares?" Harry whispered, letting his fingers card through the long hair at the nape of Louis' neck. He didn't answer, but that was answer enough.

After another long pause, in which Harry kept his hand to Louis' clammy skin and wasn't pushed away, he said, "Why did you save me?"

"I didn't _save_ you," Louis protested.

"You told me to go back while you fought off the walkers. And you let me stay with you all."

"Nobody deserves to die like that," Louis stated after another few seconds of silence. "I couldn't let that happen."

"So you get why I didn't let you fight alone today?" Harry pressed. Louis nodded, dropping his head.

"I'm not worth saving."

"Yes, you are," Harry insisted. "You definitely are, more than me. But that's stupid, because we're all worth everything, now."

Louis breathed out a soft laugh. "Do you ever wonder why we're still alive?" he asked.

"All the time," Harry nodded. "But there's got to be a reason. A greater plan."

"...Do you believe in God?"

"Yeah. Don't you?"

Louis turned back to looking into the darkness, and Harry didn't think he'd answer such a personal question, but then he did. "Sometimes I wonder how God is ever going to forgive us for what we've done," he said. "This. This is our doing. But then I look around me... and I realise... God left this place, a long time ago."

Harry didn't answer, because he wasn't sure there was any way to console someone who thought like that.

"You're really happy just believing there's a greater plan?" Louis asked quietly, seemingly honestly surprised. "You don't want answers?"

"I'm just lucky to be alive. I take each day as it is."

"I'm not sure it's lucky to have to go through this."

"I got to meet you," Harry smiled, leaning close enough that he could nuzzle Louis' hair with the tip of his nose. Louis' eyes closed, seemingly of their own accord.

When Harry woke up, the sun had already penetrated the thick canopy of leaves above them. Dawn had come and gone, making way for noon, but the boys were all out cold, curled up around the remains of the fire.

Louis was sleeping in Harry's arms, back pressed to his front, knees drawn up to his chest.

He spent a few minutes happily holding onto Louis, arms secure around his chest, before he decided that they had to all get up.

"Lou," he whispered, nuzzling at his hair again to wake him slowly. "Wake up, mate."

Louis mumbled, then jolted awake, sitting up to look around and effectively dislodging Harry's grip. "What time's it?"

It was a useless question, because nobody really dealt in time any more. "I think we should tell them that we wanted to let them rest," he explained.

"Shit," Louis muttered, getting to his feet and stumbling to shake the others awake. "We need to get going," he told them, whipping around to search for his crossbow. Harry slowly stood up too, lamenting the loss of Louis' warm body against his own. The thought of walkers was very far from his mind as they packed up and continued their journey.

He was in a sort of daze, because it had been longer than he could remember since he had somebody warm against him. Luckily, they didn't encounter any walkers, even if they had to duck behind a wall to avoid a small group during the hottest part of the day.

Louis didn't talk much, which wasn't so unusual, and Niall filled the gaps with quiet Irish songs that made no sense. Harry was half sure he was making most of the words up because he couldn't remember, which was sad because there was something fundamentally wrong when you couldn't remember songs you'd grown up knowing, and what if that meant they were going to forget everything that was before the outbreaks?

But there were things he didn't think he could ever forget, even if he wanted to. People and places that had just become part of who he was. Memories etched into the blackness of his mind, snatches of a different reality. Maybe it would be better to just forget. None of it mattered any more anyway. Except, Harry remembered what it felt like to have a family because he recognised that feeling now. And belonging to someone. When he looked at Louis, he remembered that too.

They found another house, and cleared it out from walkers, relieved not to find anyone alive or recently dead. If they were alive, the entire trust process would start again, and Harry didn't want to deal with lies any more.

Everything was fine for a while, they set up a fire again and got dinner ready. But as night was drawing in, something was off with Liam. He was sat as close to the fire as Harry usually did, but kept going off to retrieve blankets to cuddle up in, and was trembling each time his arms left the confines of the material.

Harry was just about to ask him how he was feeling when Louis unexpectedly crouched beside him and asked instead. Harry could see the concern etched on his face, the fierce protective nature of someone used to looking out for people, used to being the strong one. Harry wondered if Louis had been part of a big family, maybe lots of friends.

"I'm cold," Liam mumbled. "Might have a temperature."

"Zayn?" Louis asked over Liam's head. "Will you stay with him tonight? Make sure he doesn't get worse?"

"It's no big deal," Liam protested.

"We don't know that," Louis answered him and got to his feet.

"I'll make sure he's okay." Zayn confirmed, standing to go sit beside Liam immediately. "What about you?"

"We'll see what happens, first. Might just be having a bad moment, no point worrying too much."

Zayn nodded, and Niall watched them worriedly. "You'll be okay, yeah?" Niall asked, reminding Harry of a kid. He had no idea how old they all were, but Niall seemed the most in need of comforting half the time.

"Don't worry, Nialler," Liam smiled at him weakly, and for the first time, Harry felt a little left out. He looked up to see Louis hovering in the doorway, watching them all with wary eyes, and he wondered how much responsibility really lay on those shoulders, how much weight he'd offered to carry that wasn't his own.

"I'm taking the upstairs bedroom," Louis announced. "Wake me if there's any trouble."

Harry watched him leave, and caught Zayn's eye.

"We'll stay here," Zayn told him. "You and Niall can sort out the other bedrooms."

They stayed in the living room for a while, until Liam started sneezing, and Niall looked so distressed that he took control and coaxed Harry out to the other bedroom, letting him take the bed and building up a nest of blankets for himself on an armchair.

"I'm really glad you found us," Niall said as they'd both settled.

"Thanks," Harry said, a little awkwardly. "So am I."

"You make us better, I think."

"How so?"

Niall was quiet for a few beats. "Because you make _him_ better."

Harry held his breath, glancing up at the ceiling where he knew Louis wasn't sleeping at all. "I want to get to know him," Harry admitted.

"So do we all," Niall sighed.

"I think I'm gonna go see how he is," Harry dared to announce, after a few more minutes of silence.

"You're braver than most of us," Niall told him as Harry got up, piling the blankets he'd wrapped himself up in onto Niall.

"Get some rest, yeah?" Harry told him gently, not wanting to acknowledge the statement.

"Only if you do."

Nodding, he turned and crept upstairs, trying to figure out what he actually wanted to say.

The door to Louis' room wasn't closed but it was dark inside, and Harry could only barely make out the contours of the bed.

"Louis?" he said quietly, his voice sounding muffled between the wooden walls.

"Harry," Louis answered him out of the darkness. "Did something happen? Liam?"

"He's fine," Harry reassured him, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. "Last time I checked."

"Okay," Louis sighed. He sounded exhausted. "What are you doing here then?"

"I just want to help."

"With what?"

"With... Anything, really." He walked to the middle of the room, and didn't know where to go, so he stayed there, hands fisted into the cuffs of the shirt he took from a house months ago.

"Harry, come over here." Carefully, he sat on the edge of the bed, leaning his arms on his knees. "Are you alright?"

"Nobody's alright any more."

"Yeah, but..." Louis started. "You should get some sleep."

"So should you."

"Yeah, I wish."

Harry turned to look at him, his eyes having got more used to the darkness so he could make out the shape of him over the sheets. "Can I stay here tonight?" he whispered, hating how vulnerable he sounded, like a child.

"It's a small bed," Louis answered non-committally.

"You're not so big yourself," Harry told him and laid down next to him, stretching his tired legs.

He'd expected some sort of weak protest from Louis, but all he heard was the subtle sound of him shifting to make room so they weren't touching.

"Hey, Louis. What happened at the tracks... Was that new for you?"

Louis didn't answer for several seconds, and Harry was starting to think he wasn't going to say anything at all. His voice was soft enough that Harry almost didn't hear it.

"No. I just never told anyone."

"So before all this... Did you have, like, a secret boyfriend?"

"No," Louis laughed softly. "God, no. I've never..." He cut himself off, like he regretted his words, but Harry thought he knew what he meant.

"Loved anyone?"

Louis shifted again. "Are you even queer?" he asked, ignoring the question.

"I don't know," Harry answered truthfully. "I don't know if it even matters."

"It should matter to you, though."

"Why? I've got more things to worry about than who I'm attracted to. It's not like I have a chance to do much about it."

"How do you not know? Haven't you..." Louis trailed off, as if he wasn't sure how to finish his question politely.

"Never got the chance to meet someone," Harry shrugged. "Everything fucked up first."

"So you're..."

"Yeah."

Silence fell, a tension having crept into the room, settling between them. Harry tried to ignore it, to just close his eyes and go to sleep, but his heart was beating too hard and he couldn't get comfortable. So he turned onto his side and reached out to cup Louis' face in the dark, stroking his cheek with his thumb.

"Harry..." Louis breathed, a warning in his voice.

"Please," Harry whispered back.

"I'm not sure I should be the one to..."

"Oh, come on. Who else is there? It's not like I've been saving myself or anything. I just really, really want to."

Louis stared at him in the darkness, and Harry swallowed back the fear that he was overstepping a line, keeping his hand where it was, hoping that his boldness would pay off.

After what seemed like hours, Louis sighed, and shifted closer to press their mouths together, reaching out to hold onto his shoulder, nails digging into him through his shirt.

There was no real rush, and Harry smiled against Louis' lips, pleased that he got to see a gentler side of him that nobody else did. He'd expected Louis to be rough and quick about it, but he kissed like a kitten, with tender swipes of his tongue and gentle nibbles, holding onto Harry like he was afraid to let go.

Harry couldn't keep his hands from finding the soft skin of Louis' stomach, pushing at his tank top until he could brush at a soft nipple, stroking it until it hardened and Louis let out a quiet moan. Harry felt himself get hard just from the sound.

It felt a little weird that they should be making out in a stranger's bed, with their sick friend downstairs and little spoken between them. But it was also fitting, that they should do something like this just when they were feeling a little vulnerable.

Louis reached out a little more, tugging at Harry until he got the message and moved to settle between Louis' legs, both of them sighing at the contact.

He hadn't expected this either, assuming Louis would want to be in charge, but Louis just turned his head to give Harry access to his neck and it was probably the most trusting thing anyone had done for him since the beginning of the end.

Harry licked at his pulse point, sucking carefully on the skin while he pushed Louis' tank top up even further, finally helping him slide it over his head and off. Sitting back, he removed his own shirt with clumsy fingers, listening to Louis' heavy breathing filling the room.

While he was still sat up, Harry leaned over to take off Louis' boots, and his own, and hesitated only briefly before unbuttoning his jeans, hands skimming over Louis through the material. The sound he received in answer, high pitched in the back of his throat, was enough to give him the confidence to pull the jeans away, and kick off his own before settling back down against him.

They were both unwashed and dirty, hair matted, with blood under their fingernails, but Harry had got used to it a long time ago. The smell was raw, the feeling untarnished, and he'd longed for this for so long he gave a little whine, nuzzling into the side of Louis' head as they moved against each other with small thrusts.

Louis reached up, his hand curling into Harry's hair and just holding on without trying to move him, and everything felt so tender Harry almost wanted to cry, because Louis was so strong and rough for everyone else but really he was just as gentle as Harry.

A hand wrapped around his hip, gripping his skin and forcing them together in more desperate movements.

"Louis, hang on," Harry panted, causing him to slow down his movements and Harry sat up a bit again, reaching for the waistband of Louis' underwear. "Should I..?"

"Yeah, yeah," Louis breathed impatiently, lifting his hips to help Harry undress him.

It finally hit him, once Louis was lying naked beneath him and Harry had pushed his own pants down his legs, that they were really doing this. That they were naked and hard and feverishly warm, drawing pleasure from each other's skin just by touching. It wasn't quite what Harry had expected sex to be like, and he felt strangely self aware when he laid down again, feeling Louis press up against him, hot and wet against his stomach.

Louis hesitated, arms wrapping around him to hold him steady. "Harry?" He asked quietly, and he knew he was busted. If he was too unsure, Louis might tell him to stop, and turn his back on what they were doing.

"I'm alright," Harry told him, leaning down to kiss him again.

"You're fine," Louis confirmed, hand tracing along his jaw. "Don't worry, I've got you."

That was all it took for Harry to realise that this was different from what he'd expected, but it was still okay. He trusted Louis, literally with his life, so this was something he could do.

And before he knew it, Louis had rolled him over, reaching between them to wrap his small fingers around both of them. Harry gasped and arched his back, so unused to the feeling of someone else's hands on him. Louis went slowly, moving his hips in small movements and steadying himself with a hand splayed over Harry's chest.

Louis was incredibly gentle, even the sounds he was breathing against Harry's skin were soft, and it was such a contrast to the leader that he saw every day that Harry almost didn't believe it was the same boy. They barely knew anything about each other, not even surnames - not that that mattered any more - but they shared this. It was closer than he'd ever expected to get with anyone in his life.

Louis whispered Harry's name, face pressed against his neck, and Harry traced his nails down his back, pressing up against him as much as he could, moving into his hand freely.

Like this, he could cup his hands around Louis' thighs, feel the strength and precision of his movements, pressing his thumbs into the softness between legs and hipbones. Harry didn't think he'd ever appreciated Louis' body properly before, but right now he doubted there was anything out there that compared. Louis was so beautiful, even in rags, even in squalor, that Harry felt completely disarmed and defeated in the face of it.

Louis panted against his throat, and his actions started getting erratic. The sound and feeling of Louis losing control above him was the most amazing thing he'd experienced, and when he cried out softly, body arching against Harry, he felt the answering rush of heat course through his body.

He didn't know if the others had heard them. He didn't know if he cared.

Louis' head fell forwards, hand still braced against Harry's chest, and they breathed together for a while, coming back to their senses, before Louis moved away and used one of the blankets to clean them up. He tossed Harry his underwear but it was so hot in the room that they didn't bother with the rest of their clothes. As Louis lay down again, Harry couldn't help but pull him to his chest, wanting to protect, wanting to belong.

There was no difficult silence as they both tried to reason with what had happened, because they'd discussed it before. So it was rather a content sharing of a quiet moment, and Harry felt his eyes starting to grow heavy.

Louis curled up against him, with Harry's hand fitting around his hip, and settled. Within minutes, his breathing evened out, and Harry allowed himself a smile, glad that Louis would get some sleep again.

He woke up alone. The sun was up but it seemed early, and the curtains moved slowly with the humid summer breeze. The house was quiet, and as he walked down the stairs, looking through the doors he passed, he was happy to find all of the others still sleeping, Zayn curled around Liam protectively in front of the fireplace.

He stepped onto the porch, closing the door carefully behind him and securing it before he wandered across the grass to the edge of the woods, stopping and giving himself a minute to look for the signs Louis had taught him, before he took off, soundless, into the undergrowth.

He was mindful of the small twigs and dry leaves that were usually key to revealing himself. As someone who lacked grace a fair amount of the time, it was a testament to his commitment that he managed to stay quiet.

It took a while, but eventually Harry noticed movement up ahead, a telltale blue denim jacket moving silently along the path. Harry stepped into the next natural pathway and kept a discreet distance, staying low.

Five minutes later, Louis had shot a pheasant with a perfect shot and Harry smiled broadly, straightening from his hiding place.

"Nice shot," he said, causing Louis to spin around, startled, with his crossbow raised.

"Harry," he said, incredulity written all over his face. "How did you get here?"

"I tracked you," Harry announced, still smiling. "Didn't want you to be alone out in the woods."

"Why didn't I hear you?"

"You were hunting, I didn't want to distract you." Harry didn't bother trying for nonchalance, too proud of himself for actually succeeding in his task. "Pretty cool, right?"

"Yeah, good work," Louis told him, smiling warmly. "Are the others okay?"

"Still asleep, I think," he felt a little bad for leaving everyone asleep and unwatched, but Louis on his own was a bigger threat.

Taking a few steps forward, he wrapped his arms around Louis' waist and tried to kiss him but Louis ducked his head, avoiding the kiss and using his free hand to remove one of Harry's arms from his hip.

"Not here," he muttered, backing away and turning to pick up his pheasant.

"Why not?" Harry asked, unable to quite manage to cover up his disappointment.

"Let's get to the house," Louis told him, starting to make his way back to the path. "The others must be hungry."

Harry watched him for a few seconds, hoping he'd explain himself or turn back, but he didn't.

Sighing, he followed Louis back to the others, only slightly bothering to keep his steps quiet because they didn't know if there were any dormant walkers around that might hear them. Louis still didn't say anything when they got inside, so Harry took it on himself to go through to the others and make sure everyone was okay. Niall was in the living room, watching Zayn and Liam, who were still asleep.

"Help me get breakfast ready, will ya?" Louis asked Niall, who nodded and scrambled to his feet. Harry pretended not to take it personally that Louis hadn't asked him to help, and sat down beside Liam and Zayn on the floor, feeling Liam's forehead.

He was burning up, his skin clammy and flushed. Harry tucked him in a bit more, glad that Zayn was keeping him warm, and then went to fetch some water for when they woke up. He'd have to tell Louis. They'd have to get him medicine.

"Hey, guys, Liam's not doing so great," he told Niall and Louis when he went through to the kitchen. "I think we need to go find a pharmacy. Just in case."

"Yeah, I can go straight after-," Niall began to announce, looking confident.

"No, I got it," Louis cut over him, wiping his bloodied hands on a dishcloth and taking up his bow. "You've got this covered, right?" he asked Niall directly, and Harry pushed aside the hurt once again.

"Sure."

"I'll go with you," Harry said, but Louis just shook his head.

"Too risky," he said. "I've got it."

"But-"

"Stay here."

Harry bit his tongue and looked at the floor as Louis stalked out of the room, leaving them with an awkward silence and a pheasant to cook.

"He gets like that sometimes," Niall sighed, patting Harry's shoulder with his clean hand. "There's not much we can do about it. He might be okay when he gets back."

"I guess so," Harry replied reluctantly, and set to work helping Niall until Zayn walked in, sleepy and concerned.

"He's not doing so well. I think we need help."

"Louis already went to find some medicine for him," Harry assured him. "Don't worry about it, Zayn. We'll look after him."

The morning passed slowly. Liam woke up when they brought the food into the living room but he refused to eat and just lay under his pile of blankets, despite the smothering summer heat. Zayn hovered over him like a mother hen, Niall walked back and forth aimlessly and Harry sat staring out the window, biting his finger nails. Louis was taking too long. They didn't know where the nearest pharmacy was and chances were he wouldn't find one. But Harry knew he wouldn't stop looking. He had no idea when to expect him back and it made him itch with suppressed frustration and fear. He shouldn't have allowed him to go alone.

The others eventually succumbed to sleep in the early evening, Liam still battling a fever and Zayn exhausted from trying to keep him awake and hydrated. Niall slept for a little before getting restless, muttering about tidying up the house and disappearing upstairs with suspiciously shining eyes when he had looked to Harry to alert him. It was clear that he was starting to lose hope, and that they were all half expecting days to go by without Louis returning.

But Harry didn't move, convinced that if he waited long enough, things would work out, and Louis would come walking back through the shrubbery like a scruffy saint, brandishing exactly the right medicine to heal Liam and revive him from whatever illness he was subjected to.

He didn't notice that he'd fallen asleep until footsteps broke the eerie silence, and his head snapped up of its own accord, whipping around. He was certain it was a dream at first, Louis standing in the doorway with blood smudged over his face, clothes torn and blackened, crossbow held tight in both hands. But when he started walking towards him, hesitantly, wearily, Harry got to his feet, closing the space between them and removing the bow from Louis' shaking hands.

"You're alright," Harry assured him, placing the bow on the side and taking Louis' bag from his shoulder. He looked so small without his weapon, lost as he looked at Harry with clouded eyes. "Did you get bitten?"

Louis shook his head, crumpling against him as soon as Harry's arms circled around him. "You're safe, now, it's alright."

He could feel Louis' uneven breathing against his chest, his pulse still pumping blood into every muscle, keeping him standing, keeping him alive, and Harry had never felt so grateful, so humbled, to remain in the world of the living with Louis in his arms.

He got out the medicine for Liam a while later, hoping some regular antibiotics would be enough to get him back on his feet. He woke Zayn and let him get to it, walking back into the kitchen to help Louis clean up, checking him for wounds. Louis still hadn't said a word.

His hands were covered in scratches, but luckily it seemed a lot of the blood wasn't his own, and a couple of pots of puddle water removed a lot of the grime layering his skin.

As soon as somebody else was nearby, Louis grabbed the cloth and pretended to work on his own, but his expression was almost fond when they were alone, even more so when Harry didn't complain or comment on the two sides of his personality. Everybody had their securities, and Louis relied on being outwardly strong.

Harry didn't ask about the excursion, and Louis didn't seem to want to talk about it, but it was enough to just feel him relax under his fingers, closing his eyes when Harry dragged a cloth through his hair. Louis' skin was so smooth underneath the dirt, so hot to the touch, and he had beautiful hands, made to create and be used. Not like Harry's clumsy ones, too big for his body and sense of coordination.

"You could sleep, if you want," Harry told him when he was done. "Get out of those rags. I'm sure we could find some better clothes for you around here somewhere."

Louis nodded weakly, allowing Harry to herd him upstairs, closing the door behind them so Louis could have a little privacy, even if he wanted Harry's help in getting undressed.

He got as far as dropping the rag that used to be Louis' shirt to the floor and reaching for his jeans, but then Louis reached out a hand for his wrist, stopping him.

"Harry," he started, voice cracked and shy.

"Yeah?"

"I've got... I found this thing..."

He reached behind him, into his pocket, and when he held out his hand again, there was something clasped between his fingers. Harry lifted his hand automatically, accepting the small bottle that Louis gave him, bringing it up close to his face to read the label.

It was lubricant, clearly picked out in the pharmacy Louis must have found.

"Oh," Harry breathed, suddenly a little awkward himself. "You want to-"

"You," Louis interrupted him. "If you want. To do me, I mean."

"You-" Harry started, confused. "Want me to use it on you?"

Louis nodded quickly, looking around as if he wasn't sure they were alone, and pressed closer. "I want you in me."

Taking in a sharp breath, Harry didn't even consider, just nodded eagerly and kissed him, pushing him towards the wall and reaching again for his jeans, repeating _okay_ against his lips.

Louis undid Harry's jeans easily, pushing them down a little but not completely off, busy panting against his skin while Harry fumbled with the lid of the bottle.

It was embarrassing how desperate they were, in just a matter of seconds. Harry was fully hard by the time he'd got his fingers wet, and Louis had turned around, bracing himself against the wall as he waited for Harry to breach him.

"How do I do this?" Harry asked urgently, gripping Louis' hip to keep him in place.

"Start with one finger," Louis gritted out, voice so rough and husky already. Harry did as he was told, pushing inside and feeling his cock throb with how Louis let out a low growl, rocking his hips back.

They didn't even have time to kiss, or talk about what they were going to do, like he had expected. It was rushed, almost obscene in how beautiful Louis sounded when he was breathing quick and trying to adjust as fast as he could, and it was exactly how Harry wanted it to go.

He'd barely taken the effort to push a third finger alongside two others when Louis reached back to curl small fingers in Harry's sleeve. "I'm ready, s'okay"

"It won't hurt?" Harry breathed against his neck, pressing a quick kiss there.

"I can take it," was all Louis gave him, and Harry was far too eager to argue.

"No protection?" he asked, even as he began stroking himself with slippery fingers.

"Not like we aren't already infected," Louis replied drily, and Harry chuckled breathlessly against his shoulder, pressing against him, starting to inch inside.

It was the most erotic experience of his life. Louis moaned so beautifully, and his arse took Harry's cock with minimal resistance, opened so easy for him to slip inside.

It felt like they'd done it many times before, finding an easy rhythm of Harry rocking forward and Louis pushing back in synchronisation, with Louis moving his legs wider to allow Harry even deeper. It was the most alive Harry had ever felt, and he didn't want it to be over, almost more than he wanted to hear Louis completely lose himself and stop trying to control every part of himself. He wanted to be the person Louis trusted enough to move with shamelessly, and it looked more possible than he was expecting.

It wasn't until Harry found it in himself to reach for Louis' cock though, that things properly spiralled. Louis started making increasingly hot noises in the back of his throat, Harry's rhythm sped up, and soon he was fucking him so hard and fast that the sound of their skin slapping together almost rose higher than their groans. Harry wasn't sure who came first, but it didn't take long, and they both collapsed against the wall when it was over, panting like they just couldn't get enough air into their lungs.

Harry hated the moment of having to pull away from Louis, immediately missing the closeness and the heat, though he could sense Louis missing it more in how he made a soft sound of regret, slumping more against the wall for support as Harry tidied himself up again, shifting closer to wrap his arms timidly around Louis' waist.

He allowed it for a few moments, before untangling himself and walking off to clean himself up too. Harry chucked his jeans to the side and lay down on the small bed, his heart still beating a little too quickly in his chest even as Louis came back, picking up his boxers from the floor and dragging them on. He seemed to hesitate, but Harry couldn't keep in a sigh of relief when Louis finally came over and crept into bed with him.

They slotted together as easy as last time, Louis seeming even smaller as he pressed hot skin against Harry's side, latching on with just a bit too much strength to be meaningless.

"I'm glad you made it back," Harry whispered, feeling a strain on even that volume, sure he couldn't talk louder if he were to try. "You hold us all together." He left it unspoken that he would have been lost without him; no use stating the obvious.

"I had to come back," Louis replied, as if he had no choice. "Liam needed me."

_I_ need you, Harry thought and adjusted his grip around Louis' shoulders. "I don't want you to go alone next time though," he said instead, voice very quiet. "It's too dangerous."

"Coming with me is dangerous too. No where is safe."

"I guess safety is relative, these days," he murmured, feeling genuinely safe in the small stolen bed with Louis against him, grounding him and reassuring his existence with a steady heartbeat against his skin.

Louis didn't answer beyond a hum of agreement, shifting to press closer and yawning. Harry was tired, but he was sure Louis had to be exhausted, having had a much rougher day than his own sitting at a window without moving. "Get some sleep, Louis. I'll wake you if something happens."

"Promise," Louis murmured, and Harry promised, closing his eyes and falling asleep almost immediately.

The house was completely silent when he woke up, and it was early, the air pleasantly cool against his skin, birds chirping outside. Louis was still asleep, spread out on his stomach with his face pressed into a pillow, eyelashes fanning over his tanned cheeks. Harry couldn't help but reach out, stroking the bumps in his spine, pressing light kisses to the nape of his neck. He still smelled earthy and sweet, but he tasted like salt, so effortlessly beautiful that Harry couldn't quite believe he got to see him like this.

Louis' eyelids fluttered open, and Harry's hand drifted to the bottom of his spine, slipping under the waistband of his pants.

"Can I?" he asked, voice no more than a whisper.

Louis nodded faintly, watching him with a hint of wariness in the soft light as Harry ran his hand completely under the material, fingertips spreading across warm skin as he admired Louis' curves, the way he didn't look embarrassed at all to have Harry practically worshipping him.

It was early enough that he didn't think anyone else would be awake in the near future, and they didn't know when they'd next have a break like this. "Can we do it again?" he whispered, readying himself for a refusal, just in case.

There was silent for a second or two, Harry watching him close his eyes, and then Louis' hands drifted down to start pushing at his pants, his hips wriggling a little as he slipped out of them. Harry's mouth went dry, but his fingers found their way in between Louis' legs, stroking his soft thigh up to the curve of his arse, pushing in. Louis was still slick and mostly open since last night.

It was good, really, that they didn't have to spend more time and lube. It only took a little work to get Louis ready again, rocking back against Harry's hand with impatient whines until Harry withdrew to straddle him, leaning down to kiss his neck and shoulder gently in contrast to the slightly desperate way he eased into him with a hand clasping his hip tightly.

For a moment, they were just still, Harry resting his forehead on Louis' shoulder, feeling the heat of him in every part of his body. Louis was gripping the pillow, eyes closed as if deeply concentrated, but then he arched his back a little, to get even closer, and Harry rolled his hips, both of them letting out startled groans as pleasure sparked.

It was softer than the night before, more relaxed with less need to rush things. It felt as if they had hours, and Harry could almost convince himself that they weren't in the middle of a worldwide catastrophe, that they were just two guys enjoying each other.

"Move," Louis murmured, exhaling slowly as Harry tried small movements, barely moving away from him before pressing close again, working up to deeper thrusts and giving them both time to adjust to it.

It felt so good he was worried Louis wouldn't be able to keep up. Harry wanted to keep fucking him for ages and ages, listening to the incessant sounds he made, watching his face flush a deeper red with every passing second. But he wouldn't last ages, and they didn't _have_ ages to do this anyway.

"Feels so good," he whispered into Louis' neck. "Louis..." And the name felt so intimate on his tongue, like it had never been spoken in this context before, and wasn't really meant to.

He heard a loosely pronounced version of his own name, the main sounds there but a lot more rounded, and decided his own name had never sounded more beautiful that when spoken from Louis in that moment.

It was almost too intense, the silence around them closing in and making every breath so noticeable, every shift of the bed against the wooden floor sounding so much louder, but it only added to it, forcing Harry to re-evaluate their time.

"Fuck, I don't know how long I'll last," he panted against Louis' hair, eyes shut to focus on how it felt rather than anything else.

"Harder," Louis managed in answer, arching up against him, "please."

Harry took a deep breath, pausing and readjusting before snapping his hips forward as hard as he could manage. He came only a minute later, biting down on Louis' shoulder as he rode out his orgasm, moaning far too loud in the silence of the room. Louis was breathing heavily underneath him when he came around enough to notice, and he quickly rolled off of him, relieving the pressure.

Louis didn't move for several moments, sprawled face down on the bed for long enough that Harry started to worry that he wasn't okay.

"Louis? Did I do something wrong?"

Louis shook his head, shifting a little and exhaling breathlessly. Harry looked him over, and swore when realisation hit, gently turning Louis over and crawling between his legs. "Sorry, let me..."

He'd never done it before, but didn't feel scared at all about leaning down, placing his lips around Louis' still hard cock, and encouraging him to finish too.

He hummed when Louis' fingers suddenly curled in his hair, grounding him without pushing, and he liked this, liked the weight of Louis' cock on his tongue and how he could feel it throb when he sucked it down as far as he could. It wasn't scary or particularly difficult, even if his jaw did start to hurt after a couple of minutes, but it was entirely worth it when Louis tugged on his hair, signalling that he was close. Harry refused to move, and simply swallowed instead. It was sexy as fuck.

Louis' back arched off the bed, hand coming up over his own mouth to muffle his shout while his skin flushed red. He was beautiful, and Harry didn't want to be anywhere else, didn't want to remember where they were or that Liam was downstairs fighting to be okay.

Minutes passed with Harry resting against Louis' hip, tracing patterns on his thigh as Louis' hands continued playing with his hair. It was calm, quiet, exactly what he'd dreamed of.

Eventually, Harry crawled up the length of Louis' naked body to kiss him, lazy and slow, before leaning back enough to look him in the eyes.

"Don't shut me out," he said quietly. Louis still looked soft and open, so far from his normal hard set expression. He sighed deeply.

"What do you want from me, Harry?" he asked, weary and resigned.

"Truths," Harry told him. "And your trust."

"You have my trust."

"Do I?"

Louis stared him down for a beat before nodding. "Yeah. You do."

It was good enough for now, and Harry grinned his thanks, leaning to kiss him again, starting with his lips but making a circuit across his face, delighted at the giggling Louis gave him in return.

"God, you're so gay," Louis told him, pushing at his chest playfully.

"You're the one who wanted me in you, so you're more gay," Harry retaliated easily.

"I guess it doesn't matter anymore," Louis said, and his eyes took on a distant look, as if he'd just lost himself in an old memory that Harry hadn't been part of.

"It never did," Harry replied. "You are what you are. Being gay doesn't have to define you."

"But it did," Louis argued. "Before all this, it did. I never even got to tell my mum."

Harry had never heard Louis talk about his mum, or his life before all this, so he stayed silent, waiting for Louis to continue. "I changed everything about myself to fit in," he admitted. "I learnt how to fight, how to drink, how to flirt with girls. I didn't want to let her down."

"Why would you let her down? I'm sure she was really proud of you."

"I'm not sure she even noticed. I had four little sisters and no dad."

And suddenly it all made sense to Harry. Louis had been the man of the house, the protector. It was a lot of responsibility to bear for a boy who looked like he couldn't have even turned twenty before all this.

"And that's why you put yourself in charge of us, too?"

Louis nodded, sighing and closing his arms tighter around Harry. "It makes me feel a little more in control."

"But then who takes care of you?" Harry wasn't sure if it was a rough subject, but the idea of Louis always on his own was too heartbreaking to bear.

"I do."

"I think I want it to be me, now."

Louis didn't reply, but he kept holding Harry close for a minute, just holding, before he finally sighed and climbed out of bed.

"I need to check on Liam," he said, reaching for his clothes. Harry hummed his agreement and didn't bother hiding his look of awe as Louis moved around the room naked. His curves were beautifully highlighted in the morning light, his hair a chestnut brown with sun bleached streaks running through it, and his eyes so fiercely blue that Harry felt his mouth go dry. And Louis had no idea how divine he was.

Once he'd dressed and moved downstairs, Harry remembered his promise to look for some dry, cleaner clothes, and set about searching the bedrooms, tracking down some skinny jeans and another shirt. Louis seemed the type to dress nice, even at the end of the world, so he snagged a few pairs to choose from and joined the others in the living room.

Liam and Zayn were still asleep, curled around each other with Zayn protectively resting a hand in Liam's hair. Louis had crouched next to them, and appeared to be testing Liam for a fever.

"How is he?" Harry asked in a whisper.

"Getting there."

"Oh, thank god."

Louis looked up, giving him a brief smile, and Harry felt his stomach drop a little. Louis looked so different when he smiled.

They found Niall outside, cooking breakfast over an open fire. He seemed to be making some sort of soup, and it didn't smell half bad.

"Sleep well, boys?" he asked, looking like he hadn't got much sleep himself, and Louis patted his shoulder.

"We stay until Liam can move," he said. "But I don't like this area."

"What's wrong with it? There's carrots in the garden."

"It's too quiet."

"You just don't know how to act when there isn't danger pressing in from all sides," Niall scoffed, stirring the thick liquid over the fire with a faintly proud expression.

"We'll fall into a relaxed state, then not react fast enough when there is serious danger," Louis countered, scanning the trees. "Stock up on carrots if you really want to."

"Already have, mate."

Harry laughed a little, earning him a grin from Niall. Louis scowled and everything was as it used to be.

They managed to get Liam out of the house eventually, to feed him and make him breathe some fresh air, and Harry dragged Louis upstairs afterwards to show him the clothes he'd collected. Louis took his time, running his fingers over each pair of jeans before choosing, and Harry just stood in the doorway, watching, as Louis threw his rags to the side. He seemed unbothered by Harry's gaze, as if he wasn't really there at all, but his movements were softer when it was just the two of them, more delicate. Harry wondered if it was maybe the real Louis that was starting to shine through.

The clothes fitted well, even if he had to roll up the cuffs several times, and Louis looked genuinely relieved to be in cleaner clothes, even if they were stolen from somebody who probably wasn't alive any more.

"You're gorgeous," Harry commented before he could stop himself, and got a small grin in return.

"You think so?"

"Of course I think so," Harry smiled back softly. Louis stood completely still, just looking at him for a long moment, and Harry got the feeling he was about to say something, maybe gearing up for it, when Niall suddenly cried out from downstairs.

Louis had passed him in a second, running and not coming to a stop until he reached the living room where the others were gathered around the coffee table, Niall laughing like a lunatic.

"What the hell are you doing?" Louis barked as Harry came to a halt behind him.

"Just playing a round of cards, mate. Wanna join?"

"Maybe if you keep your voice down," Louis scowled, stalking across the room and sitting opposite Niall. Harry grinned, rushing to sit next to Louis.

"Sorry, forgot," Niall apologised, not looking sorry at all. Liam seemed better, propped against Zayn and half leaning on the table, and Harry could see why Niall was playing. It was good for morale, kept their spirits up.

"Cool threads, man," Zayn announced across the table, nodding to Louis.

"Cheers," he replied, grabbing the deck of cards to shuffle them. Harry was half expecting a comment about how _he_ had picked them out, but Louis probably didn't care about things like that. He probably had no desire at all to belong to someone in particular. Maybe he was ashamed of it, even with his boys.

Niall caught his eye and winked, smiling reassuringly, giving Harry the feeling he understood more of what was happening between him and Louis than either of them gave him credit for. Harry smiled his thanks and concentrated on the game with no intention other than to lose so Louis might win.

They played several rounds, Harry lost them all without even meaning to, and Louis won the last two, smile seeming to light up his entire person as he punched the air excitedly.

"You're a child," Niall told him fondly, and Louis punched him in the arm.

"It's getting dark," he commented. Everyone looked out the window, trying not to imagine the shapes of moving bodies outside.

"We should move on," Liam murmured.

"You think you're strong enough?" Louis asked quietly. "Tomorrow?"

Liam nodded. "I just need a good night's rest. But I don't like this place."

Louis exchanged a look with Harry. "I agree," he nodded.

They packed up their stuff to kill time and enable them to leave as soon as the sun rose, adding cans of food they'd raided from the kitchen, with Niall carefully placing the mass of carrots he'd managed to dig up at the top of his bag, announcing it as their main diet for the next few days.

As much as he'd loved having a stable roof over his head, the others were right, and they had to move on, so Harry savoured the feeling of a mattress under his tired body and stared at the ceiling for a while.

But he couldn't sleep, constantly imagining sounds outside, voices and shuffles of reanimated bodies in the undergrowth. The safety of the house was making him restless.

Carefully, he managed to remove Louis' limp arm from his chest so he could sit up and get out of bed. Louis was completely dead to the world, having fallen asleep the moment Harry had finished rubbing him to orgasm an hour earlier, and it was good to know he could sleep at all, let alone this deeply.

He left him like that, curled up in the sheets peacefully, and closed the door silently before walking downstairs to check on the others out of habit. Zayn and Liam had moved into one of the bedrooms, sleeping fully clothed on top of the blankets with the door open. It was a hot summer night, and Harry felt himself sweating as he moved through the house, finding Niall asleep in the third bedroom, spread out and breathing heavily.

The sky was lit up with stars shining down at them like the world hadn't gone to shit, so Harry stepped out, unable to see any reason why he shouldn't. The garden was quiet, and it was almost like he could pretend none of it was really happening, that he was just with some friends on a trip.

After a few minutes of Harry deciding if it was too risky to be outside or not, he heard a car, pulling up at the front of the house, and wondered if maybe the owners were back. It didn't even occur to him not to as he walked further out on the veranda, the lamps on the car suddenly washing him in bright light, blinding.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Louis woke up with a start, alerted by the screeching of tires as a car took off in the night. Harry was gone.

He barely had time to throw on some clothes before he was running down the stairs, crossbow held tight in both hands and heart hammering. He was shouting Harry's name before he could stop himself, raising the house, making the boys come stumbling out of their rooms, scared and confused. Louis didn't stop to explain as he ran out onto the porch, catching the last traces of the car's tail lights as it disappeared around a bend down the road.

He didn't think as he continued running. All he could hear was his own breathing, his own heavy footfalls, and the pumping of blood in his ears. The car was long gone but Louis was still running, still hearing Harry's name on repeat in his head, blocking out all reason and all thoughts.

He ran until he couldn't run any more, until he could taste iron and his lungs felt like they were about to collapse in on themselves, and he was forced to drop to the floor, hands scraping on the uneven ground and head hanging in defeat. It felt like an age before he heard footsteps catching up to him, Niall falling to the ground and laying face down on it, trying to breathe. Zayn rested a hand on Louis' shoulder, sinking down next to him.

"We'll get him back," Zayn promised, voice rough. "I'm sorry."

"I should have stayed up, stopped him going anywhere," Louis whispered.

“It's not your fault,” Zayn insisted.

“I should have protected him.”

“You did.”

“I fucked up.”

“Look,” Niall spoke up behind them, loud and firm. “We get it, okay? You love him.” Louis lifted his head slowly, heart pounding but for a different reason now. “You love Harry and we have to get him back, we know, but seriously, mate, you need to rest. We need to come up with a plan.”

Louis nodded, too stunned to say anything. He was so sure he'd been careful, that nobody had noticed.

"We're not blind, mate," Zayn supplied, reading him so easily it almost seemed pointless in trying to hide anything from him. "Let's find somewhere to catch our breath without being so vulnerable, before we move on."

The others pulled him up, and Louis walked in a daze with them to a shaded area, sitting on the ground and staring down the road that his thoughts were already travelling on, imagining Harry in all sorts of terrible situations. The sun was starting to come up, air a little chilly but feeling good on Louis' flushed skin, calming him, helping him focus his thoughts. Niall and Zayn remained silent for a while, and Louis wondered briefly if it was awkward and if he should feel awkward, but he found that he didn't, and it didn't matter what the others thought of him when Harry was in danger. He couldn't hide his fear and desperation even if he wanted to, and in the end, they were still here.

“Tell us what you saw?” Niall said eventually, shuffling a bit closer to Louis.

“A car,” Louis replied shortly.

“So, do we think that's them then? From Terminus?”

"Maybe."

"So we're going there."

"I guess so," Louis agreed, expression grim. "But I'm not going to go in unarmed. No place that calls itself a sanctuary just steals helpless boys in the middle of the night."

"Seems kinda weird. Why were they so far out?" Niall mused aloud, picking apart a twig at his feet. "Like maybe they were out there on purpose..."

"Watching us," Zayn finished, voice adding a different mood to the cold air around them, making it less refreshing, more imposing.

"Someone should go back to Liam," Louis threw out, suddenly guilty over having dragged the other two so far from the house.

"Liam will be fine," Zayn said unexpectedly. Both Louis and Niall looked up, waiting for an explanation. "I mean," Zayn went on, looking between them both. "Louis needs all the backup he can get and Liam isn't stupid. He'll barricade the house, hide out till he's better and wait for us to come back. He knows we won't leave him."

"You sure he's okay?" Louis asked, feeling like he had to be sure. He'd been out of touch with the guys recently, distracted by Harry. It had backfired, leaving him out of his depth with the only people he knew as friends. "But you're right. We're not leaving him."

"He'd expect us to do this. If we go back without Harry it'll be worse," Niall reasoned. "We'll sort this out, we've got to be almost there."

Looking in the other direction, Louis didn't recognise anything. He must've run for longer than he thought. "Yeah... Alright."

“We've got guns,” Niall went on, “and you've got your crossbow. We don't need anything else, do we?”

Louis nodded slowly, wondering if they were going to bring up Harry again and how he was supposed to respond to it. But Niall just got to his feet, pulling Zayn up with him. “Let's go then,” he said, determination written plainly across his young face, so brave, and Louis had never really noticed.

They walked from then on, following the road and holding their weapons tight, listening for sounds that weren't there. Louis took the front, keeping a steady pace, and tried not to rush them. They really couldn't be far off now.

It would be counter-productive to walk into a likely trap out of breath, so at each corner he slowed down, and picked up the pace once he could see a clear stretch. There were no walkers, which was surprising and unsettling at the same time, leaving him jumpy and exhausted from being so tense.

On the horizon, a structure came into view, a fence to keep people out, or perhaps to trap them in. They'd arrived.

"We should get off the road. Too obvious," Louis stated, stepping into the trees.

The boys followed him without a word, and Louis realised he hadn't expected that even if it was the kind of behaviour he was used to from them. He felt like something should have changed, some massive shift in balance, maybe, but Niall and Zayn both looked at him like he still had all the answers, like they were still willing to follow him blindly, and it knocked the breath out of him, that they could still trust him after realising the truth.

“You okay, mate?” Zayn asked carefully.

“Yeah,” Louis breathed out quietly, shifting his stance and turning to start walking again. “Let's get up to the fence and have a look.”

Finding a section of undergrowth pressed against the wire, they tried to get a closer look. Louis was expecting maybe a deserted area, maybe a mess from people leaving, or overrun with walkers.

Instead, he saw people dragging other people, who were tied at the wrist, and shoving them into containers. Like they were being locked up in a cell, with no gentle actions.

"What the fuck is happening?" he asked quietly, trying to find an answer in what they saw. A kid tried to escape, calling for their dad, and a man put a knife to the child's throat warningly when the dad tried to intervene, not letting go until the struggling ended and the man walked into his container.

“I dunno but it doesn't look friendly,” Niall breathed to his right. “You reckon they've got Harry in one of those?”  
  
Louis pressed his lips together, unable to answer, trying to get his mind to come up with some sort of plan. There were so many of them, living breathing people, and he had no idea how they'd be able to force their way through without being spotted. The only other option was to fight, but they were only three people and these arseholes had rifles.

But, he thought slowly, watching the last container slam shut and the noises die down, they had been invited, so if they acted oblivious, if they just walked in asking for help... It was reckless and desperate, he knew that, but did they have another choice? He'd rather die trying than not try at all. It was with a stab of fear that he realised; this, everything he'd been through, it had only been worth it for Harry. Only him.

"We have to go in."

"How?" Niall asked, gesturing slightly. "Run in screaming hoping they can't count?"

"No. We walk in." Louis smiled weakly. "We just walk in, asking if they've seen him."

Zayn frowned, looking wary. "What if we get locked up?"

"We know what's coming. They didn't."

"But-"

"Okay," Niall interrupted before Zayn could protest further. "It's the only plan we have so I say we do it."

Louis turned to look at him, and Niall looked right back, calm and collected in a way Louis didn't feel at all, but he nodded anyway, so so grateful that he understood. "Alright."

They were welcomed, just like Louis had assumed. A woman was stood frying meat in the middle of the courtyard and people were spread out at tables, eating and chatting as if everything was just as it always had been, before the world went to shit. It was almost like they'd imagined seeing people mistreated around the back.

"Welcome to Terminus!" The woman announced, her expression warm, something Louis hadn't seen before in any situation except traps."Have you come far?"

"Uh, yeah," Niall started. "We sort of lost our friend."

"Oh, dear, that's terrible. Was it quick?"

"What, no, he just... It wasn't walkers," Louis explained, trying not to lose his patience. "Have you seen him? Just a kid, curly hair, denim shirt, headband..."

“No, don't think we have, sorry,” she said with a shake of her head. Louis let his eyes travel quickly around the open space, only half paying attention to the conversation as he tried to memorise details, anything at all that could help him figure out a way to get to Harry.

It wasn't until his eyes landed on the woman again, however, that he finally noticed something of importance. The paper plane necklace around her neck, Harry's necklace.

He had his crossbow raised and pointed at her throat before anyone could react, Niall and Zayn stepping up close to cover him even if they couldn't have known. Harry had kept the necklace hidden, always inside his shirt.

“Where is he?” Louis growled, every fibre in his body alert and ready to fight.

“Please, lower your weapons.”

“Where's Harry?!” he yelled, impatience rolling off of him in waves. “What have you done with him?”

In half a second, everyone around them stood, guns raised and trained.

"If you'd lower your weapons," one man started calmly, "maybe we can work this out."

"Tell us where he is, first. Have you killed him?" Louis eyed the meat the woman was turning, stomach threatening to flip at the realisation. "That's not animal meat, is it."

"Depends what you count," a young man, a little older than Louis, answered slowly. “Now, lower your weapons and we'll take you to your Harry.”

 _His_ Harry, Louis thought absently as he felt his heart thump loudly in his chest, brain working at top speed to detect a way out of the situation. Several seconds ticked by, he could feel Niall pressed to his shoulder, Zayn just half a step behind him, and he knew that if he put up a fight they might get hurt or worse. He needed more time.

He lowered his crossbow.

Niall and Zayn copied his actions, and gradually the weapons aimed at them were lowered.

"There, that wasn't so difficult." A man stepped closer to them, clearly the leader. "Gimme your weapons, business end towards yourselves, please."

Louis hated letting go of his crossbow, like an extension of himself was being removed. He stayed close to the boys, unwilling to lose anybody else, now. "Tell us what you've done with Harry."

"You're Louis, right?" The man sneered, laughing a little. "He kept crying for you, like a child. Wouldn't shut up, no matter what we did."

Louis clenched his teeth but remained silent. The last thing he needed was to give himself away even more than he already had. He raised his hands.

“Look,” he said quietly, looking up from under his eyelashes, “you've got us. Just take me to him.”

The man grinned. “As you wish.”

They walked close together, the three of them, herded by several armed men that Louis didn't pay much attention to. He wasn't scared for his own sake, hadn't been for a long time really. The moment the containers came into view, however, he felt suddenly quite powerless in the midst of it all. Even if they did get to Harry, he had no idea how to get them all out.

Roughly, they were pushed into darkness before the heavy door closed behind him, and Louis wasn't even on his feet before he called out for Harry, his eyes adjusting slowly to the absence of light. There was silence, just the sound of Zayn and Niall scrambling to their feet, reaching out to grab at Louis' arm, until a voice carried through the dark.

“There's no Harry here.”

Louis stared into the darkness, hoping that the voice was joking. "Do you know where I can find other people who are here? He arrived a few hours ago."

"We heard a lot of shouting and fighting, maybe that was him. One of the guys that are locking us in here seems to have broken a nose or something since."

Louis felt a surge of hope, smiling a little. "Sounds about right."

"Well, we're inside," Niall announced, smiling at the others in their unit. "And we aren't on our own any more." It was almost irritating how he was forever finding good things on terrible days. "So it's a start. We are definitely closer."

Louis couldn't find it in himself to agree. Instead, he turned around slowly, eyes finally able to make out the figures around him, more people than he'd initially thought were in there with them, and he said, “Well, they're gonna feel pretty stupid when they find out.”

There was a beat of silence, everyone's eyes trained on him now.

“Find out what?” Niall asked, finally.

“That they're fucking with the wrong people.”

As soon as Louis got his bearings, he started looking over what he was wearing, pulling off his belt to see if it could become a weapon. "We don't have much to work with, but we need to defend ourselves. Anything you have, it might be useful."

It was encouraging to see how quickly people got to work, working to pull the zips from their jackets to hold between two hands like a wire. Zayn fished out his necklace, smiling sadly. "I loved this, gonna be weird to use it badly. On real people, like."

"We have to, otherwise we'll get worse," Niall reminded him quietly.

Louis tuned them out, walking over to the door where a small ray of sunshine fell through, listening to the sounds of crickets and the distant moaning of walkers from beyond the fences. No one seemed to be approaching. He readied himself anyway.

He couldn't have said how long they were in there, he waited by the door the whole time while people whispered and moved slowly around him in the dark, restless and scared. It wasn't until he heard footsteps that he finally took a few steps back, calling out for everyone to be ready, the door was going to open.

But it didn't. Instead, the container was suddenly plunged into sunlight as the ceiling lifted, something falling and landing in the middle of the floor with a dull clunk. A smoke bomb, Louis had time to think before breathing became difficult and his vision started to blur. After that, he was once again immersed in darkness.

The world became too bright, once he was able to understand what was happening again. His knees hit the ground, head pushed forward until he was resting his chest against the edge of a basin, ragged cloth stopping him from talking. A quick look around revealed Niall and Zayn, and a few other people from the containment unit, all of them against a long basin with a drain at the end.

Around them were bodies, in various stages of being cut apart into sections, like a slaughterhouse. A sick kind of relief shot through him when Louis was sure none of the bodies he could see belonged to Harry. It was somebody else's grief on the line, but not his.

Two men were in the room with them, one of which held a baseball bat, absurdly practising his swing, and one sharpening a knife by the sound of it. They were clad in plastic aprons, both splattered with blood.

His hands were tied behind his back, but it didn't stop Louis from being able to reach into his trouser leg, slowly pulling out the wooden stake he'd managed to break off with the help of his belt earlier during the long wait in the container. If he bent his wrists just right, he could use it to sever the rag tied around his hands, cutting himself loose. The question was whether he'd have enough time or not.

And that's when the first man went down, beaten over the head with the bat only a moment before his throat was slit, spraying blood into the basin.

Everyone else started struggling, but Louis felt a sort of removed pride at how still Zayn and Niall were. They knew struggling wouldn't help, and it was better to not give them the satisfaction of seeing their fear.

Seconds after blood starting pooling in the polished metal, the next man was knocked out. It just kept happening, the men showing no remorse at all, and Louis prayed something would happen before Niall was harmed.

The bat was readied at the edge of Louis' vision, swung a little as if drawing out the moment as long as possible, but as he got ready to strike, the door swung open, revealing a man Louis recognised from before, this time holding a clip board.

“Shot count,” he said, though Louis had no idea what he meant by it. The man with the knife replied with a number, the man with the clipboard wrote it down, and the man with the bat lifted it a second time to aim for Niall's head.

“Hey! Shot count.”

Louis breathed slowly through his nose, watching the bat being lowered again in the corner of his eye.

“I'm sorry,” came the reply. “It's my first round up.”

“Well, go back and count your shells then.”

“Yes, sir.”

Louis was expecting the man with the clipboard to leave then, but instead he walked up to the basin kneeling in front of Louis before suddenly removing his gag.

"You're the tough leader, right?" The man asked, smirking a little. "The trusted one that let little Harry out of your sight?"

"Why did you take him?" Louis asked slowly, trying hard not to rise to the taunting. It wouldn't get them anywhere.

"Who says we did? All I know is that you seem incredibly insistent about him. I'd say brothers but you look a little different," he tilted his head, looking at him consideringly before smiling. "Ooooh. You're like _that_."

Louis felt his muscles tense, working on the cloth around his wrists. "I don't know what you're talking about."

“He must be a good fuck,” the man smirked, and his men laughed loudly. “Not so tough now, are you, faggot?”

Louis had never been called that in his life. He'd spent so much time making sure no one would get the wrong idea about him, crafting an image no one could question, and now that it had finally happened he felt nothing. It didn't even make him angry. As long as they were only talking about him, leaving Harry out of it, it didn't matter.

"No argument? So he is good?" the man hummed, a sick expression on his face. "Maybe I'll try."

Growling a little, Louis tried to get up, get closer, at least to slam his head against the other guy's nose, but he was pushed back down. "You leave him alone. Just let him go. What even is this place? You don't need him."

"Maybe I do? You don't know anything about us. You're just a kid," he laughed mockingly.

But Louis had stopped listening, his hands suddenly springing free as the cloth that bound them gave under the pressure of the stake, just as a loud explosion went off outside, rattling the old building, creating one beautiful moment of distraction in which Louis grabbed the stake tightly in his hands and ran it through the man's throat.

The men behind him seemed torn between running to see what had happened and attacking him, so Louis took the moment, getting to his feet and taking them down without remorse. They were barely human any more, anyway.

Untying his friends was easy, and Louis pulled them up, sparing a glance to the dead men at their side.

"We don't have time to wait around, we have to get Harry."

"It sounded close," Niall breathed, looking towards the door as they all listened to shots ringing out. "The walkers have got in."

Louis didn't stop to think about it. If Harry was locked up like they had been he would be safe from the walkers for now. What they needed was guns so there was really only one way to proceed.

He lead them through the building, past more body parts and blood, through a door that lead them out in the open but mercifully some way from the actual fight. Crouching low, they managed to get behind the shooters, and with one daring move, Louis took one of them down, stealing their rifle and gunning down everyone ahead. He was killing people ruthlessly now, not walkers but living people, and he didn't care one bit. His reasoning was that _they_ were killing people, likely eating them. That meant they were as bad as the walkers. Worse, because they had to understand that it was wrong.

The walkers were in herds, all of them heading straight towards him, but he kept firing, working to clear them slowly. It would only draw the attention of more of them, but he didn't have much of a choice. Niall and Zayn stood beside them, backing up until they found a door to duck into, only just slamming it shut in time. They were still out there, and he still needed to get past the walkers to find Harry.

"We'll find a door on the other side, they won't know we're there, then."

They entered a room with tables spread out, and Louis immediately recognised the neat piles of personal possessions that were stacked on top. There was one table for wrist watches and jewellery, one for guns, and one, Louis noticed to his utter horror, for stuffed animals and dolls. He tossed his rifle aside as he was out of ammo anyway, and helped himself to his own crossbow, lying neatly in the pile of firearms. Zayn and Niall picked up some weapons of their own and then they were moving again, none of them capable of words at this point.

The other side turned out to be the courtyard, already swimming with walkers. They started picking them off one by one, pressing closer to the gates, to where the containers were lining the fence, and as Louis passed the woman that had greeted them earlier, lying dead and half eaten on the ground, he stooped to rip Harry's necklace from her neck, leaving her to rot with the rest.

"Oh my god, is that Liam?" Niall suddenly yelled to his right, pointing towards a group of walkers some way away.

Louis expected the worst as he looked towards where Niall was pointing. But instead of a rotting version of their friend, Louis realised Liam was just blending in, covered in a poncho coated in dried blood and innards, even spreading to his face. But through it, he was grinning.

"You're supposed to be resting up!" Zayn shouted.

"I said I'd be ready by morning. It is now morning!" Liam answered, joining them and lifting off the poncho, dropping it to the floor with obvious distaste.

Louis reached him first, pulling him into a brusque hug that seemed to startle him. It took several seconds before Liam actually hugged him back and it hit Louis that they'd probably never done this before, Louis having been so focused on providing them with protection that he forgot how to be their friend.

"So glad to see you," Louis told him before letting go, and Liam's smile was worth it, his eyes crinkling in genuine joy.

Their moment was short lived, the walkers pressing in, and Louis started running, heading to the containment units and breaking into them, each time hoping he'd find Harry, in any condition so long as he was alive. But each time, his hopes were crushed, anonymous faces looking to him for guidance as he told them where to find weapons, told them to leave quickly, wished them luck.

But there weren't many units, and Louis was starting to think it was too late, already.

Smoke was billowing from the remains of a massive tank, the one that must have exploded earlier, that Liam must have blown up, Louis realised. People were screaming, shots were being fired, and he was getting weary. When he finally reached the last unit, letting Liam shoot the lock before he wrenched the door open, he had almost given up. He had no guarantees that Harry wasn't already dead, and if he was, Louis didn't have many hours left in him.


	3. Chapter 3

Harry had heard the explosion. He'd heard the shouting and the gunfire and the walkers. He'd tried to bust the door open or catching a glimpse of what was going on but it was impossible, and if his capturers were all dying out there he'd soon go the same way.

He wasn't at all prepared for it when shots were suddenly fired at the metal holding him prisoner, door swinging open to momentarily blind him.

And there, painted in silhouettes against the burning sky, was Louis, like a divine being from Harry's most vivid fever dreams.

Many different statements passed through Harry's thoughts, most of them mindless confessions of adoration. But none of them made the final cut.

"What the fuck did you do before all this?" he asked, convinced now that he had to have been a bank robber or something.

Louis watched him, taking him in, shoulders relaxing a little before he lifted his arms in a helpless shrug, crossbow shifting in his grasp when he finally answered, like it was a confession he'd been waiting to tell. "Nothing! I did nothing!"

Harry laughed. It was absurd, and entirely the wrong time for it, but he threw his head back and laughed even if it made his neck hurt and _god_ , he was so relieved. And then Louis pulled him to his feet and they were running, away from all the screaming, away from the nightmare of Terminus and the death of those who had it coming. Louis held Harry's hand the whole time, pushing him over the fence, helping the other survivors until he was the only one left on the other side and Zayn and Niall had to lift him over because Louis had finally reached his limit and could barely stand on his feet anymore.

Harry wrapped his arms around Louis, holding him up.

"We need to get out of the trees, this is going to attract too much attention," Zayn suggested, pointing to a clearing that seemed to be evening out in the woods. "Don't want to be stuck in the middle of things when the walkers arrive."

Harry looked down at Louis' pale face, smudged with dirt and blood, seeing the exhaustion written in every line before he leaned in and rested their foreheads together for a short moment. He'd much rather just stay and let Louis rest, to regroup and celebrate their escape, but he knew there was no end to the running. There probably never would be.

“We need to get out of here, love,” he mumbled, stroking Louis' cheek with his thumb. “We need to get to somewhere safe. You think you can do that?”

Louis nodded, eyes closed and breathing laboured, but he made a move to get up so Harry sat back and helped him get to his feet, holding onto his hand as they began walking.

The odd thing was, and it took Harry several minutes to notice, that people were following them. The people they'd rescued, that had survived, were all walking silently behind them. Harry turned to Louis, but he was just staring straight ahead.

When they finally reached the road, however, Louis stopped and turned around.

“People,” he began, gaining everyone's attention without even having to try. “I know you are tired and hungry and you have been through a lot. I don't know what those monsters were doing and I don't care to find out, but it's over now. You're as safe as you can be, and this is where we part ways. I wish you all good luck, and I implore you not to follow us. You're on your own now.”

“Why can't we come with you?” a man asked aloud.

Louis took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a second, and Harry was so in awe of him. “Because these are my people,” he said. “And I'll die before I see anyone of them in danger again.”

The people who had followed them nodded, thankfully seeming to understand where he was coming from or perhaps just not daring to argue, and started dividing into smaller groups. Harry smiled a little at them, but focused his attention on Louis, with an arm secure around his waist.

The walk back seemed to take forever, with Louis and Liam both meaning they had to take it a little slower. But there weren't many walkers around, and it was good to know they were camped out a long way from the fire. Anything coming by wouldn't stop at a small, quiet house.

By the time they made it back, the sun had set, making everyone jumpy around the slightest noise, and they almost missed the turning for the house. Louis was the last one in, herding them like sheep, but when the door was closed and locked, he slid down it, settling on the floor with his back against the polished wood. Harry dropped to his knees.

“Louis...” he whispered, stroking his hair and gripping his shirt, so relieved and wrung out and in love that he didn't know what to do. The boys had all sat down on the floor in the hall, staying close, staying alive.

“I'm so sorry,” Louis mumbled, fumbling for Harry's face in the dark. “I'm so sorry I let them take you.”

“No,” Harry shook his head. “It wasn't your fault.”

“I was so scared,” Louis choked out. “I thought you were dead, I thought-”

“I know,” Harry interrupted, pressing his nose into the downy hair by Louis' temple. “But you came for me. I knew you'd come for me, it's alright.”

“No, it isn't,” Louis protested weakly, and Harry's heart just hurt so much to see him choking on so much guilt that wasn't his to bear.

“Just tell him,” Niall spoke up behind them, weariness straining his voice. “Tell him the truth, Louis, because I bet you haven't.”

Harry leaned back, just a little, to look Louis in the eyes. He looked scared.

There were several moments of silence, where the dark just almost hid the hesitancy in Louis' eyes, but not enough for Harry to miss it. The tension was so thick, and Harry could barely breathe through it. Nobody even moved, unwilling to break the building feeling that things were about to change, again.

"I love you," Louis murmured at last, his voice unsteady but his eyes so full of sincerity, and Harry wasn't sure if it was reflection, but there was the faint gleam of unshed tears in his eyes, likely remnants from feeling like they'd been indefinitely separated. Harry had never felt more alive than in that hallway, surrounded by the only people he cared about, facing the boy he'd fallen for so fast. They weren't in a world where things could happen slowly any more, after all.

A quiet laugh escaped him, shaky and breathless, before he ducked his head and pressed his lips to Louis', unable to hold back. “I love you, too,” he told him, letting himself smile proper. “I love you so god damn much.”

“Thank god,” Niall commented and they all broke into breathless laughter, even Louis, as he leaned forwards and rested his head on Harry's shoulder. It felt nice, having a quite moment where they could relax and feel the stress of the day ease from their shoulders, leaving them sore and tired, but so relieved to be safe as possible again, with each other.

When they felt like they could move, everyone relocated to the living room, staying close to each other and just appreciating the quiet. Harry had become used to a different kind of silence before he met them all, the kind that's full of false scares and a constant alertness. Everybody carried their own kind of quiet, and it combined to a very safe mood. Between them, they seemed able to handle anything.

“So what now, lads?” Liam asked eventually, a heavy sort of weight to it now that their plans had been so completely crushed.

Louis sighed from where his head was resting on Harry's lap, and it felt somewhat unfair that Louis had to make all the decisions, that everyone was always turning to him for guidance, hope and a reason to carry on.

“We move on,” Harry said before Louis had the chance to reply. “We go to London, find out if any communications are working, if anyone's working on a cure. There's got to be something out there.”

Nobody had anything better, so Harry's idea was accepted as the new plan. It would be a long way to go, and potentially dangerous, but they didn't have a lot of a choice.

"I'm gonna miss the carrot garden most," Niall stated, already sad. It seemed absurd to Harry that he could be more emotional about a root vegetable than the humans that had died at Terminus, but he realised it was likely a way of coping. Things closer to home were easier to comprehend than the horrors they'd set in flames.

“Be happy there's something to miss at all,” Zayn told him with a tired smile.

Harry carried Louis upstairs a short while later, unbothered by his feeble protests as he laid him down on the bed that had somehow become theirs. He undressed him slowly, making sure he wasn't hurt beyond a few scrapes and bruises, and then he crawled into bed with him, curling his long body around Louis' back.

“You really think we can make the journey?” Louis asked once Harry had him trapped and secure in his arms.

“I don't know,” Harry admitted. “But I think we need some sort of goal to keep us going.”

"And London is really worth it?"

"It's the best chance. Probably gonna be infested, but maybe some other people have managed to clear it out a bit." Harry still, somehow, managed to sound hopeful, even if he wasn't sure how deep the feeling ran. "Better than staying here. It's not easy to defend at all."

Louis hummed in agreement, nestling back a little more against Harry, his small body so easy to hide. For someone who'd become the leader, he didn't look it, not when, in Harry's eye, he was more suited to modelling. Maybe that's what he could have done, if the world hadn't decided to rudely end and interrupt everyone's plans and daily life.

“Did you really do nothing before all of this?” Harry asked after some time, half certain that Louis had already fallen asleep.

“Nothing that really meant something,” came the reply, muffled and soft. “But I'm glad of it now.”

Harry pressed a kiss to his neck, breathing him in slowly, closing his eyes. “It doesn't matter where we go,” he whispered. “It doesn't matter.”

And he knew he didn't have to explain further when Louis found his hand under the covers and held it tight, holding on.

**Author's Note:**

> http://evelynegrey.tumblr.com/
> 
> http://genderqueerharrystyles.tumblr.com/


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